Jessie pulled the trigger.

Sergio jerked to one side. The bullet scored his shoulder, cutting through his jacket and shirt and drawing blood. Her hands shook violently. Sergio took three, four steps toward her. Suddenly, he stood in front of her and wrenched the gun from her hands. Part of her was glad he could move like some supernatural creature. Using a weapon capable of murder had taken several years off her life. She didn’t want to hold it again.

This was it. The moment Sergio would steal her life. How would he do it? Would he pull out a gun, a knife? Strangle her with his bare hands? Sergio did none of those things. He pulled her close until her breasts pressed up against his solid chest. Sergio wounded his arms around her, embracing her.

“W-what are you doing?” she whispered, lifting her face.

His dark-green eyes were unreadable. He lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss took her completely off-guard. Her first instinct was to shove him away, except her resistance died the moment he thrust his tongue down her throat. One kiss and Sergio managed to light a fire inside her. Jessie gripped his shoulders and responded. She became aware of her nipples tightening against the fabric of her lace bra, the moisture gathering between her legs.

Her mind might hate him, but her body reacted differently. When he pulled away, she panted.

“Does that answer your question?” he asked her. Sergio cupped her cheek. His callused fingers felt rough, but they were so warm. She didn’t know why she leaned in closer or why she rubbed against his palm like a kitten seeking heat. No one had ever touched her this tenderly before.

“No. Not at all,” she whispered. Jessie recovered from her initial reaction. She tried to draw away from him, but he refused to let her go. “Why are you doing this?”

“I didn’t lie to you, Jessie. I didn’t come here to kill you. You’re mine to keep and protect.”